


Unremarkable

by thalialunacy



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: F/M, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 17:37:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalialunacy/pseuds/thalialunacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one about the not-first first kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unremarkable

**Author's Note:**

> [a drabble for pslasher, prompt of first kiss.]

Their first kiss, in actuality, was unremarkable. Neither of them even remember it. Gay men kiss straight women all the time, and they fell into that stereotype easily and with enthusiasm. Hello, goodbye, I missed you, let's get the veal. Kisses all around.

But then: At some point, though neither could pinpoint when, they started to linger. Pecks on the corner of the mouth became solid kisses, enough that people, women with babies in strollers and nothing better to do, baristas who specialized in over-the-counter psychoanalyzation, started saying things like 'oh you are gorgeous' and 'don't stay up TOO late' with winks and nods.

Zach just shrugged it off. Zoe laughed, touched his cheek, said, 'Well, we _would_ make pretty babies,' and went back to her boyfriend. And even when her boyfriend was no longer her boyfriend, nothing changed.

Until it all did.

*

"Come home with me for Thanksgiving," he heard her voice say over the phone. He was doing dishes (or at least attempting to; it wasn't his forte but he'd had friends over and they had cooked but then been too drunk to clean) so he thought he'd misheard her over the water and the suds.

"Thanksgiving? To Queens?"

"Yeah, to Queens. I'm not going to make you go to the DR, you pussy."

"Next time."

"Pussy."

"Stop it, I'm trying to clean, not vomit."

"So you'll be there?"

"Of course."

*

“How you holding up?” she asked him, a stick of peppermint in her mouth. She was perched on the countertop in her sister’s kitchen, looking at him expectantly, as if concerned the spectacular meal they’d all just shared might’ve finished him off. And she was so effortlessly elegant, dark eyes and smooth skin, even with a food baby and a candy in her mouth – he’d blame that, later, even though he really would never be able to put a reason behind his actions beyond: it felt like time.

This time, when they kissed, his hands didn’t stay still on her knees. She murmured a noise, questioning but not protesting, and when he kissed her again, her hands wound around his neck, warm and slender. She pulled back, forehead to forehead. “You sure?” was all she said. And when he nodded, she accepted it, leaned back in and chased his lips down, opening her mouth as she hooked her ankles behind his thighs.

It was the strangest thing because it wasn’t at all strange. He felt something click into place, in fact. So he broke the kiss, gathered her close, and held on.

_**fin** _


End file.
